


Reach Out, Hold Back

by whereismygarden



Series: Reflections universe [3]
Category: Stargate Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Babies, Episode Tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-07
Updated: 2015-12-07
Packaged: 2018-05-05 10:26:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5371898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whereismygarden/pseuds/whereismygarden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Give him to me. You're holding him wrong." Elly encounters difficulties in minding a small baby, and someone else has to step up. People start to identify their feelings.</p>
<p>This is a very AU version of "Aftermath."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reach Out, Hold Back

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Reflections](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3332774) by [Potboy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Potboy/pseuds/Potboy). 
  * Inspired by [Reflections](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3332774) by [Potboy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Potboy/pseuds/Potboy). 



> Hmm, so the chronology of season 2 is probably much more condensed than this, but as far as this verse goes, Bryce is about a month old for this.

                The colonel had gone down on the shuttle to the planet. Nicola wasn’t sure why she always elected to take Greer, Scott, and TJ with her: it would be more rational to leave behind one of the competent people, just in case. Though James was not intolerable, he would do poorly as commander, she thought. Riley was gone as well, and she was left to be on the bridge with Volker.

                Being on the bridge was something spectacular: the view of stars and galaxies on a vast black backdrop, the unexplored sections of Destiny and the narrowing curve of the ship like an axehead stretched below. It had been one thing to see the schematics, exhilarating in their own right, but the ship itself, thin shields stretched over every inch like gossamer, was beautiful. So she didn’t mind not going to the planet. Between her, Elly, and Volker, they’d managed to calculate how to get through turbulence to the surface, and the away team was reporting back via radio, mostly that there was nothing much interesting and that the gate seemed to have been buried in a landslide or earthquake.

                She kept one eye on the state of solar winds and atmospheric data from the planet while looking through Destiny’s systems: they’d only had them unlocked for a few days. Of course, Nicola had had a quick glance through everything she could before she reported that she had uncovered the bridge, but deep exploration of every system remained. Currently, she was looking for the program that worked with the chair: the bridge controlled the ship, even if they weren’t ready to move off course yet, so what did the chair do? Based on Franklin’s bad end, it had something to do with the AI of the ship.

                She scowled. She hadn’t said anything yet, but it had spoken to her when she first stepped onto the bridge. Taken Gilroy’s face and voice to do it, as well, which had been too wretched to bear. She thought she would have preferred a disembodied voice, or an Ancient hologram in the vein of Atlantis, if it was being projected right into her brain anyway. Still, she loved Destiny and she must learn to adapt to and control its AI.

                The only thing that marred her enjoyment of her seat in the bridge and her work on the mainframe was the thin, yet unbelievably loud shrieking of the colonel’s baby. Bryce had been sleeping when they left, and a few hours of exploration by mum and dad had been deemed reasonable. Not, Nicola thought sourly, that TJ spent as much time with him as Evelyn did. But if open secrets were to remain classified as open secrets and not common knowledge, that was probably necessary. On the other hand, their military leader had to get up in the middle of the night more than she should.

                “Oh, God,” Elly’s voice was approaching, along with the sound of Bryce’s cries. “Shh, it’s okay.” She came onto the bridge, her scuffed canvas shoes moving slowly over the deck as she tried to walk and quiet Bryce at the same time. “I don’t know what to do! Riley is the only one besides the colonel and TJ who can settle him, and she’s gone as well.”

                Where was Wray and his designated job as human resources lightweight when you needed him? Nowhere. The man must have had some classes in child development. That seemed the kind of thing he would know, or _should._

“Elly, can you leave? He’s really loud.” Volker was giving the red-faced infant a wary look.

                “No kidding. I came for help.” She rocked him back and forth, which didn’t seem to help. The wailing was really damned annoying. “Did you know that the sound of babies crying evolved to be very annoying to humans?”

                “For Christ’s sake.” Nicola closed the program she was looking at. “Did Young feed him before she left?”

                “Uh, I think so. Yeah. But I smelled him, and he doesn’t need to be changed.”

                If that was necessary, she was definitely calling Wray in.

                “Give him to me. He probably has a stomachache, and you’re holding him wrong.” Nicola stood up and walked to the entrance of the bridge. Elly looked suspiciously at her.

                “How do you know?”

                Nicola ignored the question. She picked Bryce up out of Elly’s arms, leaning him against her chest so his head looked over her shoulder, and started to pace, patting his back. He continued shrieking into her ear, after discovering she was not the colonel, but quieted after a few minutes. Nicola continued to pat him, feeling his pulse against her chest, and ran her fingertips over his fluffy curls.

                “Huh,” Elly said. “Neat.” She fidgeted with one of her braids: they were getting quite long, well past her shoulders, making her look like a less fetching drawing of a milkmaid.

                “Go bring a rag or something, I don’t want sick all down my back,” Nicola snapped. Bryce had burped a few times, and seemed better off now, but keeping her clothes free of child-related stains would be nice. She continued to rub his back, humming very low.

                Volker was looking oddly at her. Nicola narrowed her eyes back at her.

                “Something to say?” she said.

                “You seem pretty comfortable with him,” she said, in her mild yet nervous way.

                “Maybe I’m just surrounded by incompetent child-minders as well as incompetent researchers,” Nicola fired back. Volker just rolled her eyes.

                “I’ve been looking at the spectra data from the planet, and there might be some mineral deposits that could be useful for repairing Destiny’s lighting,” she said, looking slightly smug.

                “Well radio down to Young then, so she can hurry back with it and mind her baby.” Elly was hurrying back onto the bridge with a scrap of cloth, as requested, and tucked it under Bryce’s chin, over Nicola’s shoulder.

                “Yeah, I’ve definitely seen the colonel hold him like this before,” Elly said. “I just wasn’t thinking of it.” Nicola went back to the main chair on the bridge and sat down. He was about to fall back to sleep, snuffling against her shoulder. She might as well get some work done, and his small weight was nothing difficult to manage. The smell of him was comforting, surprisingly clean.

                The shuttle took off on its return two hours later, apparently with some soil of interest in tow, as well as a cracked-rib and dazed Riley, who’d fallen down a short cliff face when the earth she was standing on gave way.

                Evelyn looked very dusty and tired as she walked onto the bridge, and there was a small red abrasion on her right cheek: complementing the fading scar on her forehead from the Lucian Alliance attack.

                “Is Elly on the bridge?” she was saying to whoever was with her, and Nicola turned to see her face become very confused at the sight in front of her. “Rush?” At the sound of the colonel’s low voice, Bryce stirred in his sleep.

                “He woke up and Elly couldn’t settle him,” Nicola said, because she deserved some credit, even for a skill no one expected her to have. The colonel gave her a surprising smile, warm and genuine, that lit up her pale and tired face. Rush couldn’t help but return it, just a little.

                “Thank you,” she said, bending to pick up Bryce, who was waking up properly now. Nicola was relieved to have the weight and height of him off of her. He gave a few half-hearted cries, as if to tell Young he wished she hadn’t left. She snuggled him against her chest, passing her hand over his curly blond head.

                “No matter,” Nicola said, suddenly wishing that the colonel wouldn’t smile at her. There was something in her eyes when she was truly happy that squeezed inside Nicola’s chest. Evelyn was her friend, or at least her compatriot, but the way her heart and stomach buzzed at the woman’s presence and attention was not friendly, and she was tired of it flaring up like a damned infection. She turned back to her work, tossing her head so her hair hung between her and everything else. Conversation over.

                Evelyn stayed to talk to Volker about the mineral for the lamps, but then left the bridge, Bryce in the crook of her arm. Nicola turned back to her search for the AI. If only it would make itself useful and tell her why her little thing for the colonel wouldn't fade.She sniffed her arm: she smelled like a baby now. That wasn't bad, seeing as Bryce smelled better than most of the crew, but it was strange. She made herself focus on her search rather than her confusing emotions, cramming them down into the space for things she didn't ignore, but didn't act on. That was better.

~

                Evelyn usually did her paperwork when she was nursing Bryce: adjusting schedules, writing mission reports. Even if this wasn’t Stargate Command, they needed a record of every gate and shuttle trip from everyone. Today, though, she was not in the mind to do so. Leaving the ship had been deemed safe, and she was the best shuttle pilot. Yet there had been an emergency.

                God, did she hate the endless deliberating and deciding of what she did: it was more exhausting than either caring for Bryce, which was rewarding, or her duties as colonel, which were her responsibility. Would she have flown the shuttle had she not had Bryce? How much should she moderate what she did? She was constantly on call, essentially, as a mother and as colonel. There was no taking leave on Destiny, and this might become a problem all over again, considering that a large portion of the crew were young women with a very finite supply of birth control. God. People being what they were, even her own state of perpetual exhaustion wouldn’t scare them off sex.

                Elly, always overflowing with little odd tidbits of information, had pointed out that women had been carrying their babies into fields with them for thousands of years, “and sometimes straight-up giving birth in the fields or whatever and then getting back up again with the baby and back to like, weeding the crops.” And those women didn’t have seventy-odd people to hold their babies if necessary, either. But it was still stressful, and she’d been upset and regretful as she flew the shuttle down. Riley, with her many nieces and nephews, had deemed this reaction normal, and had continued to reassure her even after cracking her ribs.

                Things were fine: they’d made it back fine, despite Riley’s near miss. Bryce was not going to starve because his mother had died on a four-hour mission. He was drinking sleepily, one small fist pressed against her breast and the other tucked against his stomach. She suspected he must have held it that way while he was growing inside her, because it seemed to be his reflexive gesture.

                “Only gate missions, for both of us, for a while,” she told him. She could tell him her anxieties: he didn’t understand them, but they didn’t weigh her down as much this way. “TJ says you should have some exposure to sunlight, but Brody is working on a special light for you.” She switched him from one side to the other. “Even Rush seems to like you.” That might be too generous, but she’d been willing to hold him.

                It had been a strange sensation, seeing Nicola holding Bryce in one arm, free hand tapping at a keyboard, eyes focused on the screen ahead of her. She’d seemed perfectly at ease, though she’d also looked relieved when Evelyn took Bryce back. Evelyn had felt a deep well of relief open up in her heart at the sight of them, as if some weight she hadn’t seen had been taken off of her. She’d wanted to give Rush a hug or try to mess with her hair again, and only how poorly that had gone the first time kept her from doing so.

                It was normal to want Rush to care about the safety of Bryce, the way she wanted everyone to care if he was safe. But Evelyn already knew that she cared: she’d willingly spent time with Volker taking the door to Bryce’s little alcove apart. At least, that was what Elly had said: Evelyn had been too unsteady to walk back to her room for a day after the birth, and they’d done it already.

                “I want her to like you,” she said, wiping Bryce’s mouth off and putting him on her knees while she wrestled her shirt back into place. “And I’m not sure why it’s so important.” He gave a little croak, and she smiled at him. TJ said he needed smiles in order to learn how to smile as he grew: that was hardly difficult for her.

                “I’m sure I’ll figure it out,” she sighed, hoisting him up to her shoulder to pat him for a while. She really needed a shower, but she would check on Riley after she put Bryce to bed for the night. Hopefully he slept a while this time.

                She settled him into his cradle, left the Kino Elly had designated the baby monitor, and tucked its remote into her jacket. She would figure it out, but for now she could be glad about the surprising joy that was sparking in her tired mind.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Vienna Teng's "The Tower." I was pretty disappointed that I couldn't make any of her multiple songs that are specifically about motherhood/children work for the title, to be honest.


End file.
